On a Wing and a Prayer
by spartles
Summary: 15 year old Lucas Hay is an aspiring historian. When a mysterious man walks in to his fathers life, Lucas suspects that there is a lot of history between Ste Hay and Brendan Brady. The more he finds out, the more confused he gets. Stendan.
1. Lucas

You wake up to the sound of a loud thud against the wall of your bedroom. It takes a minute for you to register what it is that's happening. Never in the last eight years of living in this house had you actually heard your dad while he was _doing the deed_. This is the last thing you needed tonight.

You glance at your alarm clock on your bedside table and you curse under your breath when you realise that it's 3am. You can't afford to lose out on any sleep tonight, or even worse for that headache of yours to creep up again. You reach underneath your pillow, retrieve your iPod and pop your earphones on. You select the playlist you've reserved for revision and try to drown out the noises coming from the bedroom adjacent to yours.

Your direct your thoughts to the five different topics that threatened to appear in the History exam you have in the morning. Of course you've already been through them for what seems like a million times and if there's any subject you're confident on, it's this one. You've always been a good all-rounder, but History is where your passion lies.

The study of History is not a certain representation of the past but an interpretation of it. The uncertainty excites you and you find that you can never know enough to form an exact account of a truth, but you can damn well try to get as close as you can.

You close your eyes and will yourself to succumb to sleep and as if the Gods were on your side tonight, you do.

_-s-_

* * *

This time it's the alarm that wakes you and you're relieved. You want nothing more than to get this exam over and done with. It's the last one before you've got a whole two months off from school and you really can't wait. You swing on your school uniform, not caring whether your tie is straight or not. It's the last time you'll ever wear it and you're glad. While secondary school hasn't been at all terrible, you can't wait for the freedom that college will bring.

You realise that you won't be walking to school with Leah today because she's already had her last exam. You're saddened at the thought because it means that you've had your last walk to school together already and you wish you'd given it more thought at the time. You loved Leah. Despite you being the younger, less popular sibling, she'd always linked her arms through yours all the way to the school gates, obviously not caring for how 'uncool' she looked. You hadn't cared either because you'd been through a lot together and if there was anyone you could rely on, it was her.

You smile at the door opposite to the one you're holding open as you imagine yourself in 24 hours time sleeping in for the first time in months just like Leah was doing now on the other side of that door. You shake your head as you inwardly scold yourself for thinking that far ahead, but you're still smiling because you know that this exam will be a walk in the park.

Your smile fades when you reach the end of the spiraling stairs and you turn to see an unfamiliar man standing against the counter. You frown. Not this again. You thought your father was done with it all. You'd been much younger at the time, twelve you think, when you'd seen the last of his random one night stands creep their way out through the back door and thankfully out of your lives.

You stare at the large, built man standing in your eye-line and you realise that he's neither surprised by your presence nor is he making any attempt to hide or run out through the back door. Unusual, you think.

He's wearing your dad's robe and his leaning back against the counter with a steaming mug of tea cupped between both his hands. Bastard. He's standing there like he owns the place.

"You're not Collin", you snarl. Your anger should probably be aimed at your father but then again this man was partly the reason for your brief arrival to the land of the living at 3am in the morning when you'd needed all the sleep you could get. More annoyingly, you had heard _those noises _because of him, noises that you'll never ever think about ever again.

"Lucas", he says with a calm demeanour.

He knows your name. That's weird. But you don't have time for any of this. Your father's love life is your father's and if he's fucked it all up with Collin then that's his mistake. You pick up your bag and swing it over your neck and make your way out without acknowledging the man stood behind you. You glance over shoulder as you pull the door open. 'See you never', you think but don't voice.

_-s-_

* * *

"Lucas", you hear Ben, your best friend scream from the other end of the corridor. "Mate, we're having a few drinks at Ella's house. You game?"

You really wish you could go but that damn headache's back again and you want nothing more than to go home and sleep.

"Another day. My head's banging", you give him an apologetic smile.

"No worries. I'll be seeing you over the summer anyway. Give me a call if you're feeling any better!" he beams and turns in the opposite direction as you head out of the school gates.

You get home in ten minutes and you finally feel like you can relax. You whip your bag off, settle on the sofa and you close your eyes. You're sure no one will interrupt you here and you're glad because you're more than comfortable here. It is said that insomniacs sleep better when they're not in their own bedrooms.

You've never really been one to dwell on the past, your past especially, as ironic as it may sound, but you find yourself doing a mental checklist of the facts you should have put in your exam paper. You're pleased when you've ticked everything off. You kick your shoes off and settle them on the table and you're ready to fall asleep.

You jerk up when you hear the sound of descending footsteps from the stairs.

"Hey"

It's the man again. The one from the morning. He looks bigger now that he's actually dressed. He's wearing a black shirt of which the sleeves have bunched around the elbow and his grey trousers look like they've just come out of the tailor's shop. You hadn't noticed the moustache earlier. It should be funny but you think it suits the man. Why was he still here, again?

"You've grown", he speaks softly but you're sure that it's not his usual tone.

Wait, what? You're sure you've never seen this man before and if you had you were definitely too young to remember by the sounds of it. You're about to let a thousand and one questions spill out of your mouth but it's at that same moment that your father choses to spring through the front door.

"Lucas", he says with a great big grin on his face. "You've seen Brendan then?".

You don't think you've seen him this chirpy in ages.

Ugh. But your head is pounding again, the worst it's been in a while. You've got to get to sleep before it escalates. You run up the stairs choosing to ignore your father. You know he won't come after you. He knows that you can't tolerate anything when it gets this bad. You open your bedside cupboard and take your pills without bothering to get any water. You collapse in to bed and you close your eyes. You want to sleep. That's all you want. But you already know that it won't come tonight. Instead you listen to the humming of the telly downstairs and light chatter between _Brendan_ and your dad. Brendan, you consider. Sounds familiar but you can't put your finger on it. Who the hell was he?

_-s-_

* * *

You hear the front door shut. It's midnight. You still hadn't slept but your headache has eased slightly. You wouldn't usually get out of bed now but your curiosity gets the better of you. There had obviously been some history between him and your dad and you needed to know what it was. You want to know who this Brendan guy was and why your father has just thrown away a two year relationship for him.

You find your father turning off the TV. He turns to you and smiles.

"You okay, little man?"

"You really need to stop calling me that" you sigh. "but, yes I'm alright for now".

You think about how you're going to approach the subject but you needn't worry as he cuts you from your thoughts.

"You don't remember him, do ya?" He sits back down on the sofa and signals for you to do the same.

"Nope", you says as you sit on the adjacent chair.

"He's Brendan Brady. The love of my life".

You tense up. What the fuck? You've barely heard of this guy and yet your father has him down as the love of his life.

You don't like it. You don't like how he can call him the love of his life when he's not been there at the hardest times of his life. You'd been there. Leah had been there. Doug had been there. Not him. Not Brendan Brady. It made you angry. Why did Brendan Brady get to waltz back in to his life when things were finally going well? If he had reciprocated this love, surely he would have been there when he needed him the most.

You realise you've not said a word for about a minute now and your father is looking at you with concern.

"What about Collin? I thought you loved him!" You realise that you've shown your anger and you know your father's a little taken back.

" I did. I do. It's just… I don't love him, I don't love anyone, I can't love anyone as much as him." He sighs. "I've tried. I've tried living without him. I tried to move on but it never felt anything like happiness. Not when I've had happiness before, with him."

"So, what happened before? Why did you break up?"

"That story's for another day. It's getting late and I need to be up early in the morning."

"Da-"

"Lucas, look at me. I'm okay. I'm more than okay, actually. I'm happy"

You look in to his eyes and you see it for yourself. He's happy. It doesn't make you trust this Brendan Brady though. He was going to have to earn that. You were going to find out everything. You think of it as a challenge. You were going to paint yourself a picture of their history and like a good historian, you were going to get as close to the truth as possible.

* * *

**Reviews would be appreciated x**


	2. Steven

**AN: Thank you for your reviews, it's very much appreciated and I love reading your comments. It's because of them that I have written this much sooner than I thought I'd be writing it. I wasn't sure people would like it! **

**Just a heads up - I will be alternating between Lucas' and other characters' POV. It's so that it gives me much more freedom about what to write. Nevertheless, it will remain primarily a story about Lucas discovering things about Ste and Brendan's relationship. **

**Warning: Hard M**

**Ste's POV**

You're walking at a quickened pace towards The Dog in the Pond because you've left fifteen minutes later than you should have. You take a quick look at your watch as you walk through the village and you find yourself slowing down, giving up your attempt to make it to the pub on time. You've always felt like an outsider when you've been in the same company as Collin and his friends so it's probably for the best that the time you'll spend with them will be lessened by at least ten minutes.

Collin had been a breath of fresh air when you'd met him. Doug had introduced you to him two years ago when you'd finally been back on your own two feet for at least a year and a half. He was John-Paul's friend, someone he'd met at university when they were both studying to be educators. You were reluctant at first, especially when you'd known that John-Paul had studied in Dublin, making it possible that the man that the couple had had in mind for you would be Irish. You didn't want a replacement, because as far as you'd been concerned, no one could ever replace _him_. Knowing that meant that the possibility of another Irishman in your life was not an avenue you wished to explore. You'd only felt comfortable enough to accept the offer of a blind date once Doug had assured you that he was actually born and raised in Manchester t like yourself.

It was the first relationship you'd had for a long time but you had worked well together. You'd thought that any onlooker would surely have envied your life but you knew that what seemed to be the perfect life to the public eye, was a reality far from the truth. It's not that you were unhappy in his company, you had learnt to trust him and he had loved you. But you knew that underneath all the pretence, you were denying him what he wanted the most. Your heart.

You knew that it would always belong to someone else but he wasn't to know so you'd hidden it all, just like you had hidden everything else. Like you'd hidden your feelings of incompetence, that your lack of intellect was not enough to keep him interested in you. How it was worse when you were around his friends and you'd felt like a fool in their presence as they talked politics or something of the sort. You'd hidden your guilt when he'd told you that he loved you for the first time and you'd told him the same out of fear of losing the one thing that made you feel safe and above everything else, normal.

You did love him. It just wasn't the same kind of love you'd experienced before. You weren't _in_ love with him. He was good with your kids and that's what you loved the most about him. Despite usually working with younger kids, Collin was an immediate favourite with your two teenagers and that's probably why you hadn't felt the need to look back since.

You arrive at the Dog knowing that you're at least fifteen minutes late. You walk through the door and search the room for Collin and his friend. You spot them both, drinks in hand and chatting away. You paint on a smile and approach the seat opposite Collin, seeing his eyes light up in the process. You acknowledge his friend and settle down as Collin hands you the pint he'd bought you.

You'd met this friend before. When Collin had introduced this friend of his as 'Stephen', you'd zoned out, your mouth dry as you struggled to form words while both men stared at you with confusion evident in their eyes. You'd quickly apologised and blamed it on the lack of food in your system. Despite the difference in spelling, it was essentially the same name. The same name _he_ had called you. You were _his_ Steven, so it had felt more than strange hearing it sprout from Collin's mouth. You were still not used to it, even months after you'd first heard it.

You realise that you've finished your pint. You find yourself uninterested in Collin and Stephen's conversation so you think it's probably the best time to excuse yourself, planning to top up your glass and linger around the bar longer than you needed to just to avoid hearing any more about what was wrong with the fucking government.

You lift your empty glass as a signal to Collin before you head towards the bar. You turn back half way as you realise it's probably rude that you've not offered to refill the drinks of your partner and his friend. You definitely don't need any more reason for _Stephen_ to think that you're not good enough for his friend.

You're about to open your mouth but you stop before you make a sound as a sudden hush descends on the whole pub. Your eyes are still on Collin and he looks just as confused as you. You see Darren in the corner of your eye and you turn towards his focus.

It takes a moment for you to realise that the sound of smashing glass isn't coming from within your head.

-x-

You're stuck to the floor. Bound to the carpet with the fibres pulling you in, eating you up as you stand there helpless. Or are you? No, you're not. You feel a sudden rush of adrenaline flash through you. You need to get out of there. So you run. The sound of crunching glass below your feet and your thoughts filled with memories you'd thought you'd locked away forever but you're forced to stop. You haven't even reached the second set of railings outside the pub so you cling on to them, your knuckles white and your breathing heavy.

You hear footsteps behind you and you already know who they belong to. But you don't turn to face him because if you do, you have to face him. You have to tell him things you don't want him to hear. You'll have to let go of the pretence that is your life. More than anything you're scared. Scared that he won't want you back. Scared that if he does, that he might leave you again.

You're angry now. You needed to be prepared for this. What right did he have walking back in to your life without any warning after he'd been the one to tell you to 'live your life'?

"Steven"

"NO!" you're screaming. Your eyes stinging, tears threatening to fall but you don't let them. You turn but you don't dare to look him in the eye. "NO! NO NO NO." You're hitting him now. Fists curled and the edge of your hands meeting his chest one after the other. You're getting weak now and those tears you'd wanted to hold back are freefalling down your face, making your vision blurry. You tire out and now you're resting your head against his chest. You feel the weight of his head rest against your own as his arms wrap around your waist as if to stop you from falling.

"I missed you, so much" you whisper as your head lay buried in his chest.

"I know" he says, matching your tone.

You draw back and meet his eyes for the first time. "No! No, you don't Brendan. You don't because you never let me tell you. You pushed me out of your life. You pushed me out, like you always do!"

"Please, don't do this."

"Do what, Brendan? Tell you all the shit you put me through. Because don't worry Brendan, there's not enough time in the world for me to explain how broken I am because of you."

You hear him sigh and you know you don't have any more energy to fight. You know that all the pain you've suffered isn't all to do with Brendan. You couldn't blame for most of it, you realise. You release the railing and try to get your body to relax. "Brendan, I know why you did it. I just want to know how. Because I couldn't. I tried to live my life but I couldn't. Tell me, how did you live yours?"

He shuffles towards the railings and places both of his arms against them, head buried between them. "I wouldn't classify the last twelve years of my life as living, Steven".

He gives his head a shake before he lifts it, his gaze settling on your own, now soft eyes. You love him so much.

His eyes pull you in and you feel yourself give in. You close your eyes and place your forehead against his. "Don't leave me", you whisper and you're certain you hear him say "Never again" before you're too lost in the moment to care. You place your lips on his but you feel a slight hesitation on his part, so you push harder, move your lips against his, reacquainting yourself with the taste of his mouth. You feel him relent, his hands are snaking through your hair and you cling on to his neck deepening the kiss in the process. Your tongues are dancing to a delicious rhythm and you can't believe that you've been deprived of the taste that is so undeniably Brendan Brady for so long. You eventually pull away and you're both breathless. You're still holding each other in the same way and his eyes bore in to yours.

You need to tell him things though. You need to tell him that you're not the same person you were the twelve years ago. You need to tell him all the things that have happened in those twelve years that have made you the person you are now. But you can't, you don't want to say it all now, so you settle for a promise of telling him later.

"There's so much you need to know."

"I know, but just not today. Please."

"Okay."

"So, what now?" You can tell he's nervous. He's shuffling his feet and his hands withdraw from you and push in to his pocket, tell-tell signs that hard man Brendan Brady was nervous. You smile. It's tight, but it's a genuine one.

"Ste!"

Oh shit. You'd forgotten about Collin. You don't know how you're going to explain it all and you start to panic.

"Ste, what's going on?!" He's angry. That must mean that he's just witnessed the kiss.

"Erm…" you look at Brendan, searching for answers but you know he has none.

"Who the hell are you?" He turns to Brendan but Brendan's still looking at you, not responding to Collin's aggression. Collin pounces then but you're quick to intervene.

"STOP IT, COLLIN!" you scream, hoping to get through to him.

"Ste, what the hell?" he looks at you in defeat and you're crippled with guilt.

"I can explain. Please just calm down."

"No, you know what? I'm done. This relationship has been dead for a long time and you've given me a perfect opportunity to end it." He takes one more look at Brendan and shakes his head in disgust.

You realise that you're relieved. It's not that Collin's words didn't hurt you, because they did. It was more that it was going to be hard to try and explain what just happened. Truthfully, you didn't know how to explain it to yourself. You felt weak having given in but at the same time you're feeling stronger than you have in years. He gave you that strength and you can't afford to let go.

You take a hold of the railing again and your drop you head between your shoulders and sigh. Brendan's there beside you but he doesn't speak a word. You stand there in a comfortable silence for a while and you can't help but feel relaxed knowing that Brendan is there with you. "We should go home" you say, wanting to put an end to this day. You want to wake up with Brendan by your side tomorrow. You want him there to give you strength for what you know was coming. Because you still had to tell him about the mess of a life you had been 'living' for the last twelve years.

"We?"

"Yes, we" you smile and you pull him in to a hug. His arms are wrapped around you so tightly that you're forced pull away sooner than you'd wanted. You immediately feel the absence of his warmth so you kiss him again, hard but chaste.

He pulls out of it and looks at you and you wonder what he's thinking. "I love you", he finally chokes out.

"I love you".

-x-

You grab him by the hand as you make your way through the village. He doesn't seem to mind so you go one further and thread his fingers around yours. You know it's too much, you know that you've not really discussed enough to be holding his hands like you're some loved up, smitten couple, but you're scared that you won't have the opportunity once Brendan has found out your recent history.

You feel him slow down as you walk past 'The Loft'. "They changed it back?" you see sadness in his eyes.

"Yeah", you say not knowing what else to follow with but he looks away eventually and you feel his fingers tighten around yours.

"Where are we going?" he asks. Obviously not knowing that you'd moved since the last time you saw him.

"It's a surprise. Just follow me, will ya?" He nods and allows himself to be dragged up the familiar stairs. You see his face light up as you stop outside your door and reach for your keys.

"You bought this place?"

"Yeah. I've been living here for eight years now" you smile as you open the door and lead Brendan in.

"Huh"

"What?"

"Looks exactly the same"

"Does it? Well, I never did care about décor. It was fine the way it was, so why change it?"

"Yeah, why change."

He sits down, takes his jacket off and sit down on the sofa while you search for that good whiskey you've been saving 'for a special occasion'. You don't let yourself admit that it was exactly this occasion you'd been hoping to open it for. You sit next to him, knees touching while you pour the whiskey in to your best glasses. You think about the first time you'd done this. It was almost entirely identical. The same flat. The same sofa. The same whiskey. Only this time, you'd already had a taste of that thing you crave and have craved ever since that night.

You sit and drink for a while. You talk too. You're talking about your children. You tell him how Leah will be off to university soon and that Lucas will be at college next year and that he's dead brainy. You can't help grin from ear to ear, you're so proud of them. "Jesus" he replies. You think about the last time that he saw them and you realise how unreal it must be to hear such things. He tells you that he can't wait to see them both and you believe him. You tell him how he should get back in contact with his own. He considers it and then just nods. You don't know whether he'll accept your advice but at least he's not shying away from it all. He says he knows that he'll have to speak to them eventually, he just doesn't know how. You're not sure either but you'll figure out with him eventually, if he lets you.

You've been talking for a couple of hours now and it's almost one in the morning. You'd wished this night over just a few hours ago and now you don't want it to end. You don't want to break the spell. You don't want to face tomorrow. You just want to sit here, even if it's nothing but just sitting in silence. As long as you've got him.

Your head's lying on his shoulder now and you know that you haven't felt this content in year. Brendan pulls his own head away from yours and you sit up, thinking that you've overstepped the boundaries. He doesn't move far though. He keeps his gaze on your own and his eyes are burning with desire. He moves his mouth towards yours but you stop him just before they touch yours.

"Not here" your voice is hoarse and you want him so much. "Upstairs" and then you grab him by the hands and pulls him up those spiral stairs you both know so well.

You lead him in to your bedroom and you wait for him to come to you. He walks towards you slowly and you can't help but meet him half way. You've wanted him for way too long and you were getting impatient. He reaches for your face, cups it gently before lightly planting his lips on yours. Your kiss is gentle but it's full of passion. You open your mouth further, willing him to plunge his tongue deeper and he does. You do nothing but stand and kiss like this for minutes with his arms around your waist and your hands around his neck. You're dazed, intoxicated, in bliss and you don't want it to end.

His hands move down your back of your body, stopping to tug your polo shirt out of it confines so that he could feel the warm skin underneath the material. You push your body close, needing to get closer as you back Brendan towards your bed. You hear him grunt at the contact and suddenly the pace has upped. Your mouths crash together as you unbutton his shirt. You moan in frustration as Brendan releases your lips to fling your t-shirt over your shoulder but you're back to moving your lips in unison again.

He turns so that you're the one that has got their back to the bed and then he's pushing on towards it. Your legs collide with the edge of your bed and it's not long before you're sitting on it, legs unashamedly parted and palms splayed backwards against the covers. Brendan lowers himself, one knee on the bed, his other foot on the floor and he's still kissing you, touching you.

He moves his lips down your body. First teasing you, dragging them across your neck before licking and then sucking along your collar bone up to your jaw line. He takes off the shirt you've already unbuttoned and tosses it out of sight and you look at him, eyes darkened, body still as broad and toned as you've always known it and it's making your cock throb within its confines.

He's kissing you again, both his knees between your legs now and his hands wandering down to your jeans. His hands are eager and suddenly you're on your back and it's not long before your jeans have been abandoned.

You move up the bed and he follows you, not relinquishing any contact. He moves down your body, places light kisses on your chest. Then he's on your nipples. First the left, taking it in his mouth, sucking, licking, biting and you let out a moan. He groans in response, as if acknowledging your approval before teasing the other in the same way.

He makes his way further down, kissing his way towards your hips and you feel your already hardened cock strain against the material of your boxers. He peels the waistband ever so slightly and licks across your hip bone and you jolt in response. "Bren" you let out, you want him to touch you and he's agonisingly close.

He takes your boxers off then and suddenly his lips are snug around the head of your cock. He circles his tongue around it, sucks until you're arching off of the bed and then licks the precome gathering around the slit. He lets your cock fall out of his lips and climbs back up towards you, before drawing you in to another tongue-filled kiss. "I love you" he says, breathless and it sends shivers down you spine.

"I love you, too" you say as your hands trail towards his trousers. You unbutton them and slide your hands beneath his boxers, wrapping your hands around the base of his cock. He moans at the contact of your bare skin against his and you start to pump slowly. "Fuck." You keep the same pace as you kiss him again but soon you're wanting friction so you let go and he seems to get the message because he shuffles out of his trousers and boxers and returns his attention to you.

You feel him against your stomach, he's hard and you yearn for him to be inside of you but you want this to last longer so you don't push for it. You're pressed together tightly, you feel him start to roll his hips, rubbing your cock against his own. He drags it slowly up and down yours and you let out a high pitched moan against his mouth. He quickens the pace and you're lost in the sensation of both of you moving your hips, your cocks sliding together, both slick with precome. Your movements are hurried and careless now and you know he's close like you but you need more, you need to feel close to him, you need to come with him inside of you.

You think he wants the same because he slows down then, sits up and takes a hold of your thighs. He looks up at you and you know what he wants so you signal to the bedside cupboard. He takes the condom and rolls it on with two fingers and you can't help but stare. You've waiting too long for this and the thought of his cock inside your hole excites you beyond belief. Brendan reaches for the lube and then you're distracted by a powerful kiss but you can feel his arm preparing himself with the lube.

You're surprised when feel his hand between your crack. It's wet and cold and your body jolts at the contact but Brendan's still kissing you, relaxing you. He finds your hole and gently rubbed around it with one finger, as a whimper escapes from your lips. You spread your legs, willing Brendan's finger to go in, pushing in to it. He pushes in slightly and you rock against it slowly, inching closer to the bottom of his finger until you've swallowed it. You're fucking yourself against his fingers and the waves of pleasure go through like you've never experienced before. He adds another finger and then another, fucking you back as you rock against his fingers, until you crying out, clinging on to him, your breathing harsh. "Brendan, please."

He removes his fingers and you allow yourself your regain your breath as you watch him pump his cock a few times before aligning himself against your hole. He goes in slowly, and you know that you're tight. You've never let anyone else enter you, ever.

"Fuck, you're so tight", he says letting out a groan in the process. He pushes in a little more and you're dizzy with the sensation. "More. Please" you say. You want all of him tonight. He pushes in slowly again and soon he's in you full and rock hard. He slides out tentatively and moves back in. He does the same a few times and then he quicken the pace but it's still gentle. He places a thumb on your cheek as he kisses you through it.

You're trembling now. The pleasure is burning through you and you want more, you can't get enough. You wrap you legs around Brendan and you rock your hips and he responds by moving in to you, harder and faster. Your soles are digging in to his back and he's pounding in to you, angling his cocks to hit your prostate every time, both of you groaning, skin flushed, sweat making it harder for you to keep your feet in place. You're both so close. You reach for your own cock as it becomes too much but you're batted away by Brendan who takes a hold of your rock hard member and pumps it as hard as he's thrusting in to you. Up and down. Up and down. In and out. In and out.

Brendan's grunting, not relenting as he pushes in to you and pumps quickly. You're moaning, you're crying, you're arching off the bed. Brendan pulls out completely, fist still pumping and then suddenly he's pummelling back in. Each thrust deeper than the other and then you're crying with it, white hot liquid spurting out of your cock, slip sliding between your bodies as Brendan continues to thrust. You catch Brendan by the mouth as you feel him come within you, feeling the last of your own orgasm run through you. He parts his mouth as he lets out and final moan and collapses between your shoulder and head. "Fuck" he says.

"Fuck" you say.


	3. Brendan

**A.N I am so very sorry for such a long gap between this update. I've been extremely busy recently. Thank you for your patience and even more for your comments. Seriously, I don't know if I'd be this eager to carry on if it weren't for you guys. Keep them coming! **

**Also - the lack of Lucas in these chapters will definitely be made up for in the chapter after this. I just needed Brendan's POV in this to make the story flow. I promise there'll be more historian Lucas after this one. Enjoy lovelies x **

**Brendan's POV**

There's a heavy weight on your chest when you wake. For the first time in years, it's a weight that you welcome. Steven sighs in his sleep and it makes your heart skip a beat. You wrap your arms around him close and he sinks closer to the warmth of your once ice cold heart. He had always been that fire caught inside the storm you called your life.

The light slips through window, peers from between the curtains which hadn't been fully drawn and reflects on your beautiful boy. _Yours_, you hope.

You're not even aware of the smile that graces your face as Steven peers up at you. "What?" He's looking at you through one eye, adjusting to the morning light and you can't help but widen your smile. The muscles in your face ache, you think from the lack of use. You haven't smiled for a long time but this boy doesn't even have to try, he just _does._

"I've missed you."

He grins at you, flashes those white teeth of his, and you feel so fucking ridiculous for it but your chest tightens at the sight of it. He kisses you lightly, once, twice and a harder, deeper one the third time around, morning breath be damned. He gets up in one fluid motion after a fourth, a peck this time, and he looks like he's heading out of the room.

You catch him by the arm before he can get out of your vicinity and you pull him down on to the bed. You're not ready to let him go. You grunt at the impact of his weight on top of yours but he rolls on to his side, wrapping his arms around your mid-rift, chin leaning against your shoulder.

"Brendan, I've got to go to work soon. I can't just stay here all day." His tone suggests that he can in fact to exactly that and there's no way you're letting him go today.

"Last time I checked, your name was still hung above that deli downstairs and that means you're the boss. And the boss, Steven… the boss can do whatever the fuck he likes." You had checked when you were heading to the flat last night and thankfully, his name was still there. At least that's one part of his life he'd kept the same. He wasn't a complete stranger. Truth be told, you didn't want him to be any different but you knew that you had no real right in wishing that. Not after you'd been the one to abandon him.

"I'll phone Doug then."

"Yeah, you phone Douglas."

He lets you go and reaches down towards the pocket of his jeans which were draped across the carpet. You chuckle, remembering the way you'd flung them off last night.

You hear Steven offer his apologies and try to supress your giggles as he makes up an elaborate story about how he'd hurt his back. You hold off your laughs until he's off the phone and he slaps your thighs in response. Jesus. He's reduced you to fucking giggles already.

Then suddenly he's under the covers. His lips trailing kisses from your knees all the way to your thighs and you jerk from the sudden wetness as he licks, tongue swirling around your inner thighs. He laughs and you draw a knee up, willing him to move his mouth closer to your rapidly hardening cock. You rip the covers off and move your hand towards his mouth, trying you guide it to where you want it the most but he doesn't follow. Instead he takes your thumb in his mouth, sucks on it with intent and _Jesus_ you're buckling underneath his touch. The scene set before you so fucking obscene that he doesn't even need to touch your sensitive areas to illicit such a growl from your throat.

"Stev-ohhhhh," he takes you in his mouth, all the way down to the base and it surprises you again. He moves slowly, bobs his head up and down and looks up at you through those lashes of his. You feel his cock move against your leg and he lets out a moan as he works your cock.

He lets go of you and slides his tongue all the way up to your neck, settling there for a few moments before moving towards your lips. Your mouth surges forwards towards his and you lose yourself in it. Tongues meshing, teeth colliding, lips moving frantically.

He reaches between you and his hand grab your cock firmly. He starts pumping slowly and you realise that he's rocking against your thigh, dragging his cock up and down, smothering the pre-come all over your dark hairs. You spread your hand on one of his arse cheek and stroke it with the same pace he's moving against you. You hear his breath hitch as you part them and guide them towards his hole. Your circle it, ghost your finger over the top and he's gasping. "Brendan, please." You groan as the pace of his pumping hand increases and you're inclined to guide your finger in, with Steven still rocking against your thigh. You leave him to the work and he fucks himself on your one finger while you mould your other hand over his own pumping fist.

You're both moving erratically. Both agonisingly close. You pump faster over his fist and he stops humping your thigh and sits up. You add another finger in to his loosening hole and bobs up and down on them both, fucking himself, crying out with every movement. "Oh God. Ohohohoh." You hear the sounds of his balls slamming down on to your fingers and it's sending you over the edge. His thumb snakes over the head of your sensitive cock and your vision blurs as you let yourself go, white sticky mess all over both sets of fingers. He comes shortly after, sprays his load all over your stomach and you look at what you've done to him. So fucking beautiful. So fucking wrecked.

"You will be the death of me, Brendan Brady." He's smiling but you can't help but feel uneasy. You know how close it came to being true. "Sorry," he says, obviously sensing your discomfort. You close your mouth around his and let his lips take you away from your thoughts. You know that if you really thought about, that you'd figure out that he'd be better off without you. No danger. But you're not thinking, his tongue is brushing over your lips and you allow yourself to be selfish, for at least a few hours, you think.

-x-

You leave Steven in the shower after you'd had him against the bathroom tiles. He was still the horny little fucker you'd known all those years ago. You pick up his robe, close it around yourself and walk in to the kitchen you once knew as your own. You'd said that the place hadn't changed but you see scattered pieces of unfamiliar objects. Signs of a life that you hadn't been a part of. Signs that things had changed.

You help yourself to a mug of coffee. You laugh as you read the writing on the mug you'd chosen. 'Number One Dad'. How ironic, you think.

You hear someone come down the steps and as soon as you see him, you feel like you've been transported back to a past life. You stare at him and he looks at you with confusion evident in his eyes. He looks exactly like his father. Same beautiful blue eyes, light brown hair falling over his forehead and that fucking scowl. Exactly like Steven's.

"You're not Collin," he spits. Ah Collin. No you're not, thank fuck for that. Steven had come to you, left Collin without a second's thought.

"Lucas." You're not sure what else to say. You never did know what to say to them. Children, teenagers, whatever. You don't think he remembers you. No, he'd have been too young to. A face like yours is hard to forget, you're told all too often.

He leaves before you've thought about what you're going to say next and you thank your lucky stars. What were you supposed to tell him? Who you were to his father? You didn't know yourself.

Steven interrupts you from your thoughts as he swans in to the kitchen, beaming at you like he's just won the fucking lottery. He's wearing a white t-shirt and loose pair of boxer shorts at which you stare at for longer than you probably should.

"Lucas?"

"Looks the spit image of you," you say while handing him another mug of steaming coffee.

"Yeah, that's what everyone says. He's lucky, he's got my good looks and Amy's brains. The complete package!" He stands opposite you, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his wrists against the counter.

"Bet the girls are all over him… Or boys?"

"Girls. And erm… he's a bit shy."  
"Nothing like you then."  
"Oi what you try'na say?" you see his face scrunch up and you laugh. Yep. Just like his father's.

"That you don't like to… hold back"

"Too right, I don't," he's smiling again. His eyes all lit up. He grin wide and perfect teeth warming your insides.

"And I love you for it."

His grin drops then. His arm flop back to his side. Had you said something wrong?

"Brendan," he gulps and you follow the dip of his Adam's apple as he does. The pit of your stomach is acting up. You don't want his next words you come. You know that whatever they are, they won't be something you'll want you hear. "We need to talk." Talk. You could only let your cock do the talking for so long. You knew this was coming.

You hear him exhale and then clear his throat. He's about to burst this bubble you've let yourself be enclosed in. "There's someth-"

Collin bursts through the front doors before he can finish and funnily enough, you're relieved at his presence. He looks at you both with widened eyes. What was he expecting? He knew Steven had gone to you.

"Err, what're you doing here?" Steven moves further away from you and even though you'd never admit it, you're pained by his movement. Maybe Steven didn't want you. Maybe he'd remembered that he could do better. That Collin was better.

Collin's head dips. Can't look at Steven in the eye. You know that feeling. You know what it's like to be rejected by the perfect specimen that is Steven Hay. "I erm… I need to get my stuff."

"Bren, will you give us a minute?" you're about to protest but he takes your hand and squeezes it to reassure you. You don't move though. You're still not sure. You can't lose him. "Bren, I love you. Please."

"'Course. Yeah." You go to get dressed and leave. You don't allow yourself to think about the possibility that you won't be welcomed back. You can't live without him.

-x-

You've distracted yourself by collecting the tailored suits you'd ordered a couple of days ago. You'd been out for a week now. You'd stayed in a B&B in town, preparing your mind, playing different scenarios in your head, of his reaction. It had played out nothing like you'd imagined. The moment you had seen him, everything that you'd prepared to say had gone out of the window. He still came to you though and you couldn't believe your luck.

Now you're stood outside your old flat. His flat now. You play the different scenarios that threaten to occur.

One – he welcomes you back and then he tells you what he was going to tell you before Collin had barged in. The way that Steven had been acting, it's as if what he was going to say would make you love him any less. It's ridiculous, of course. Nothing's ever going to change. There is nothing he could do that would make you stop loving him. Nothing.

Two – he tells you that he doesn't want you anymore. You could live with that. You could live knowing that he wants Collin instead. It would still kill you.

Three – He tells you that he loves you but he can't live with the things you've done to him. That one would hurt you the most. Your own fucking fault. You could have had it all but being the fuck up you are, you had to go and ruin it, didn't you?

The first three options scare the shit out of you. You can't live without him.

There is one last option though. One you don't consider. You have to prepare yourself for the inevitable. Option number four is never going to happen. You can't just _be _together. Brendan Brady doesn't get happy endings.

You bring your hand up and knock tentatively. He opens the door straight away, grin in tow. "You're back! You were a while, I was getting a bit worried there."

"You know me Steven, I don't take suit shopping very lightly." You push past him, bags in hand and the look of relief on your face hopefully hidden from view.

"Why don't you go upstairs and put them away. I'm gonna go grab some stuff from the shop. Can't have you starving."

"You cooking?"

"Why, have you missed my cooking, Brendan?"

"Dreamt about your pasta every night, inside"

"Hmm," you both smirk at each other and he finally turns to head out.

-x-

Lucas runs up the stairs. Seemingly unimpressed with your presence. You turn to Steven but he seems less bothered by his reaction. "It's not you, don't worry. He gets these headaches. Just needs a few hours' kip and he'll be alright."

Steven goes in to the kitchen and starts preparing the pasta he'd bought. You wait in the living room and turn the telly on. There's a Superman marathon on. Dean Cain, not your favourite portrayer of the hero. No, you had preferred Christopher Reeve. Once your hero.

You find yourself lost in the show until you feel the warmth of Steven beside you. You turn your head and stare. You're so lucky to have had him in your life. Have him love you like he had.

You turn to the plates settled on the coffee table after the whiff of the hot pasta gets too tempting to avoid.

"I love this one, me."

"You like Superman?"

"Yeah, it's great. I got Lucas all the old DVDs. He loves them as well. It's well funny, it's like they're all vintage to him but this is what I grew up with, didn't I? I finally know what you feel like when you're banging on about them old films." His laugh is enough to spread a huge grin on your face. Always the age jokes. Oh how you've missed them.

You both finish eating and Steven heads to the kitchen to wash the dishes but you stop him by the shoulder before he can get up.

"Steven, I know you've got things you want to talk about but before you do, I thought you should know that I'll be going to Ireland soon. In fact, my flight's at 5 in the morning. I just thought we could enjoy this time before, you know? Leave the talking to after I come back."

Steven's face is unreadable. Usually the boy's emotions are on display, obvious, clear to the world but he shows none of the above. That's because he's not the boy you once knew. He's a man. The strongest you've ever known.

When he talks, it's gentle. "When…" He clears his throat and the next words come out with more force. "When will you be back?"

"I'll be back before the week ends. I want to see my kids. Make amends, you know?" Steven releases a breath and you finally figure out what he was thinking. He thought you were going to leave him again. You're an idiot for making him think like that. "I'll see Cheryl as well. It's about time I faced my demons."

"Brendan, I'm not sure. I don't want you to think that I used you. I told you, I'm not the same man you once knew. I'm not the Steven you left behind. I feel like a fraud Brendan." His voice comes out small, cracked and your heart sinks.

"No. It doesn't matter. _I_ want this, Steven. I want you. Please." Begging has never been your style but you don't care at this point. You need him to give you the strength to face your demons. "I want you now. I'll want you tomorrow. I'll want you for the rest of my life. Nothing's ever going to change, remember?" You're panting. Out of breath because of how fast the words have spilt out of your mouth.

He silences you with a kiss.


	4. Lucas II

**AN: Hello, I'm back! So is Lucas. Thank you all again for your comments. They've been lovely and I really am enjoying writing this. I apologise in advance for being a tease! Keep the reviews coming and I might just put you out of your misery a lot sooner x**

**Lucas' POV**

You knock on Leah's bedroom door before you head downstairs to breakfast. "Get up, you lazy sod!" It's almost 12 and you wouldn't past her to be snoring away while the rest of the country was welcoming their lunch hour.

"She's in Manchester, remember?" you hear your dad shout from the kitchen. Oh. Manchester. One of her prospective universities had offered her a sort of taster week where she'd stay in their halls, attend lectures and generally get used to how university life worked. Your dad was reluctant to let her go at first but Leah had been insistent, saying that it would prepare both her and himself for their years apart. He'd sighed and reluctantly agreed but time to time he'd moan about how hard it was letting go of his baby girl.

You hear him hum tunelessly along to some song you'd never heard of, only pausing to open the door. You walk downstairs and are greeted by the sight of Doug and you throw your right hand up for an almost painful high-five.

"Ouch," he complains.

Your father is grinning at the pair of you before tugging Doug away in to the kitchen. You had planned on going to the kitchen and fixing yourself some breakfast but seeing as how obvious it was that your dad had had something urgent to discuss with his business partner, you'd leave them to it.

You sit yourself down in front of the TV and flick through the channels but your mind and your ears travel to the conversation in the kitchen as soon as you hear the mention of 'Brendan'.

"Why didn't you tell me, Doug? You're supposed to be my best friend!"

"I just didn't think he'd come back."

His voice is hushed now, as if remembering that you were only a few metres away but you can still make out what he's saying. "What, and that makes it alright for you not to tell me, does it? Does that mean you wouldn't have told me if he didn't come back to me? Tell me what was going through your head when you decided to keep me in the dark about something so important to me!"

"I'm sorry Ste. You were happy with Collin, I just didn't want him to ruin your life again."

"Ruin my life? How dare you. He is not responsible for anything that's happened. That was all on me."

"Ste-"

"How long have you known?" His voice is calmer now but you can hear the anger behind it.

"A few weeks. Jim let it slip when the McQueens were having dinner and John-Paul thought that I should to know."

"See, even he knows better than to keep something like this bottled up."

"I'm sorry Ste, but things haven't been exactly easy for me recently. To be honest, you were the least of my worries. I know I should have told you, I should have been a better friend but the same goes for you, you know."

"What do you mean?" There's no more anger now. He's concerned.

"Me and John-Paul. We're over."

There's silence for a while and you look over your shoulder for a moment to see your father and Doug locked in an embrace, Doug's tears staining the blue of the other man's shirt.

"Ste, promise me one thing."

"What?"

"Just be careful. I'm not just saying this because it's Brendan. It's been 12 years. That's a hell of a lot of time and you'd be foolish to think that he's the same person he was back then." Doug sighs and removes himself from your father's hold. "He's only been out a few days. He's still adjusting. He needs time and I think you do too."

You think it's time that you stop eaves dropping. You remove yourself from the couch and head outside. You'll pick up some breakfast from the deli instead.

-x-

Staring out the window of the busy deli, you work your way through your Danish and let your mind wander back to the conversation you'd overheard.

_'Jim let it slip.'_

Why had Jim known? Jim was a lawyer.

_'He's only been out a few days.'_

_'He's still adjusting.'_

Was he a coward? Was he really that uncomfortable with being gay that it took him 40 odd years to accept it?

_'I just didn't want him to ruin your life again.'_

Again? How did he ruin it the first time round?

You come to a conclusion then and it fits everything you'd heard and seen. He must have been married. Gay, but unwilling to accept it. He'd met your father, obviously over 12 years ago. They'd been an item, a secret relationship, an affair if you like. Your dad would have been forced to live a secret life. Your father would have left him, unable to maintain such a relationship. It must have killed him, you think. That must have been what Doug meant when he said he'd ruined his life. Unless it was something darker. It probably was, but you're not going to contemplate something you've not seen any evidence of. Now, 12 bloody years later, Brendan must have come to his senses. Must have admitted that he was gay and ended his marriage. That would explain how Jim knew. He must have been the one to sort out the divorce. That made sense. It fit the picture.

You feel uneasy though. Your father had a habit of making terrible decisions and Brendan was probably one of them. The fact that Brendan could live a lie for four decades, or however many he'd lived, it unnerved you. If he could lie to his family for so long, then he could just as easily lie to your father. You couldn't have that. He'd been through enough hurt in his lifetime.

-x-

Four days and there's been no sign of Brendan. Your father has gone about his daily routine, granted with an added spring in his step. He's not gone for good then, you think. Leah's back though and it's brightened your mood. Actually, everything had been good recently. You'd gone round to Ben's a few times and played computer games for as long as your arms would let you. You're enjoying the sun. It decided to show up a few days ago and is showing no signs of leaving. Everything was good.

Today you would have breakfast in our own home. It's Saturday and your father's cooked a full English. You tuck in and enjoy every single bite. Nothing could top his food.

He's standing beside you, fixing the dining table, humming those awful tunes again so you take advantage of his good mood. "Dad, I was wondering if I could go see mum soon. It's been ages and Leah went the other day when she was in Manchester, it's not fair."

His face darkens straight away. He's never had a problem with you visiting your mother so what was the problem? "Not now Lucas. Just… leave it. I'll take you another time. We'll go as a family, I promise. Just not now." He gives you a strangled smile and you try and figure out his reaction. You really don't have an answer. You put it on your list of things you needed answers to. It really was getting bigger and bigger since Brendan had come in to the picture. It must have something to do with him, surely? It makes you wonder though. Did your 'family' – the one you'll travel to Manchester with – did it now consist of Brendan Brady?

It's as you're pondering the question that Leah walks in. Leah and Brendan. Arms linked and genuine smiles etched on both their faces. "Dad, look who I found!"

You look back to your father and it's like his whole body is bursting with pride and joy. "Oi, that's mine that. I found him first."  
"Ew, I didn't mean it like that." Leah looks like an excited puppy. You're hit by a wave of jealousy. Leah remembered him. You didn't. She liked him. You didn't. Well, you hadn't decided actually.

"Steven." He nods to your father and Leah let's go of Brendan's arm, anticipated your father's reaction.

"You came back for me then?" he says, trying but failing to disguise his smile by biting the inside of his lip. He walks towards Brendan until he's stood inches away. Noses slightly touching.

"I always come back to you." They're kissing now and you're obliged to turn your head away. You visibly shake your body in mocking disgust.

"Get a room, you two!" Leah shouts, but she's still grinning like an idiot. She walks towards you and sits beside you, nicking you sausage as she does.

"Oi, that's mine." She just winks and proceeds to munch your stolen sausage.

"What are they're like, eh?" She nods towards the couple who are now on the way to the kitchen. Brendan with his palms splayed along the small of your father's back. You grimace at the sight. "Hey, what's wrong?" She always could see through you.

"Nothing." You sigh. Making it obvious that you did in actual fact have a problem.

She raised her eyebrows at you, "I'm not leaving your side until you tell me."

"Dad won't let me go to see mum." Well it was _part _of the problem.

"Why?"

"I dunno, do I? He said we'll go but just not now."

"I'm sure he's got his reasons."

"What, him?" You nod towards Brendan, who's now standing behind your father, arms wrapped around him and head leaning on his neck.

"Yeah, could be I guess. He's only just got him back again. It's probably because he wants a bit of time together, he doesn't want to be separated him so soon."

"Maybe he could come with us?" You're not sure if it's a good idea but you really did want to see your mother. You know she'll be missing you.

Leah shrugs. "Take it up with dad."

"Take what up with me?" Your dad sits on the chair at the head of the table, Brendan sits opposite, plates of cooked breakfast in front of both.

"I was thinking that maybe Brendan could come to see mum with us." You know as soon as it's left your mouth that it wasn't what your dad wanted to hear.

His looks down and almost whispers "Lucas, not now. I told you to leave it, right."

"That's hardly a good idea. Amy hates me." Brendan's eyes meet yours and you know you need to push this.

"Why would she hate you?"

"Lucas, I said leave it!" he says through gritted teeth.

"No. No, it's okay. He has a right to know." He glances towards your father and then his eyes settle back on yours. "Amy didn't think I was good enough for your da."

You feel stupid for having noticed his Irish accent for the first time. Then again, he'd hardly spoken to you.

"She was right, you know. I wasn't good enough. But now it's… I've changed. I've gone through a lot of things and my priorities have changed. I had to become that man that Steven deserved and this time, I want to prove to him and your ma that I can be that man."

You try and take it all in. He says it all with such conviction that you don't even contemplate doubting it. "Maybe you should come with us then. Prove it to her."

"NO!" Everyone is startled at your father's outburst.

Brendan looks at him with concern. Looks as if he's examining every single cell on his face. "Steven, what's wrong?"

You see the panic in your father's face and suddenly it all makes sense to you. He hasn't told him yet.


	5. Steven II

**AN: This is a tad bit filthy. Well, more than a tad ;)**

**I like exploring the emotions of each of the main characters and I feel like going back and forth lets me do that because of the perspective it's written in. I hope it's not confusing. Enjoy x**

**Ste's POV**

You're awake earlier than usual. It's possible that it's to do with the phone call you'd had last night. You were glad that you were alone so no one had witnessed the stupid grin you'd had on your face. Brendan had let you know that he was coming back today. He'd promised to be here for breakfast and you'd panicked a little before you'd done a mental scan of your kitchen cupboards for anything that could pass for breakfast. You'd only been shopping yesterday, so of course you'd have everything to give Brendan's stomach the best start to its day.

It's 6am. Brendan was due to be here in two hours so you needed to busy yourself, stop yourself from worrying, stop yourself from getting over excited. It was either extreme, never in between. You were either making yourself sick with worry or getting carried away about your future with him. It always had been like that with Brendan. The last time you'd been so enthusiastic about your future with the man, he'd been ripped away from you and your once plausible dreams had been shattered in to smithereens.

So you don't let yourself think. You don't let yourself think about how you're going to tell him things. You don't let yourself wonder about the future. You don't even let yourself think about the immediate future, the one that includes Brendan walking through your front door.

You clean. You get broom out, not wanting to wake the kids up, Lucas especially, so you don't use the hoover. You sweep the living room, fluff the cushions on the sofa, wipe the coffee table, the dining table and then you move on to the kitchen. It's doesn't really need a clean because you always did run a tidy ship but you give everything a casual wipe anyway.

When you're done and dusted you peer at the kitchen clock. 7am. You wonder why time slows down on days when you're willing it to speed up. You decide to hit the shower, because maybe that will help make the clock run.

-x-

You're lost in your thoughts. Somehow you've stopped yourself from thinking about the man whose arrival is imminent. Instead you have you eyes closed while you let the water from the shower spill over your body and you think about the orders you need to make for the deli. You had promised Doug that you'd sort them out since he'd been having a hard time concentrating on anything recently. If you were him you'd probably have wanted the distraction, but then again you're not Doug and Doug always did have an odd way of dealing with things.

You're so deep in concentration that you almost miss the sound of the knocking on your front door. You turn the shower down and strain your ears, wondering if you've imagined the sound but sure enough, it's there again.

Your freeze for a second. He's early. You're naked. His knocking is persistent. He always was an impatient twat. You either risk waking Lucas up or you have to get the door in your current bare state. You grab the towel off the rails and hastily wrap it around your waist before running to answer the door.

The water from your hair is dripping on to your shoulders, running its own course down your body but you don't think it's that that's making it shiver. Brendan is stood before you, his eyes following the run of the water and his mouth slightly parted. It makes you weak. It makes you want him. Need him. "Steven", it's all but a whisper and God you've missed him, you've missed the way he says your name.

You says nothing. You open your mouth and try but your eyes meet his and you're so fucking lucky to have him stood in front of you. Real. Not a memory. Not the fragment of your imagination. He's here.

You don't take your eyes off him as you let your hand drop to the side releasing the towel that was hiding your modesty. You don't want to hide anything from the man you love anymore. You see his eyes follow it all the way down, slowing down at your crotch when he lifts his gaze to meet yours again. You feel a rush of blood work its way towards your cock and your hand moves as if by its own accord, brushing against the head of your hardening member with the slightest of movements.

Brendan's eyes darken and you know you've got him. You suppose you'd had him from the moment you'd revealed yourself behind the door, almost stark naked. He was always at your mercy when you'd show him a bit of skin. By the looks of him now, eyes on fire and mouth parted and so fucking sexy, you know that you've still got it. You know that he's still a sucker for your flesh.

He smirks, playful and completely filthy before crushing your lips together, shoving you backwards with both hands on your chest after he'd abandoned his bag somewhere on the floor. He's still kissing you, urgent and hard and you're both struggling to breathe so you break off. He rids himself of him jacket and starts working his way through the buttons of his shirt, instantly re-joining his lips towards.

Your heart is hammering, thudding in your ears and you feel only him. Him igniting your senses, making you feel things you thought you'd never feel again. His tongue searches for an opening and you give in to it, you open up, you let him taste you and you relish the taste of him.

You slam in to the back of your bedroom door and you break apart, only for Brendan to pull down his trousers and boxers in one smooth movement, letting them pool to the ground around his ankles. You look down between his legs and your eyes widen with anticipation. His cock is stood hard and thick for you. He grabs your thighs then and lefts them above his waist and you hold on tight. His lips are on you again and you kiss them fiercely, letting him know how much you want this. He groans in to it and if you weren't being held up by him, you're sure that your knees would have buckled at the sound of it.

You're desperate for a bit of friction as he works his lips at the side of your neck. You allow him more access as you move your neck to the opposite size and he bites down, eliciting a squeal out of you. He hooks his arm around your waist as you cling on to him as he uses his other hand to caress your nipple and it feels _so_ good. "Brendan," you pant. You need more. You roll your hips forward and the contact of your cock against his warm skin makes you feel like you're on fire.

He starts responding, rolls his hips against yours and you need him to stop because you're embarrassingly close to putting an early end to this. But before you say anything, he's already lifting you down, kicking his clothes away, as if sensing your building excitement. He keeps his arm around you, lips, tongue, not relinquishing any contact as he lays you down on the bed. He lifts himself off you, looks down on you and you can't help but appreciate his form. He's so fucking beautiful. His eyes trail down your body and he plants his knees on the edge of the bed, his cock standing proudly before you, his lips glistening with your mingled spit. He drags your knees up, spreading them and then leaves a trail of spit from them to your inner thighs as he slowly licks at your warm skin.

Every touch is a spark. Every movement is love. Every bite is a permanent mark. You feel it run through your burning hot body.

His hands settles around your waist and he caresses his thumbs over the skin. You lean in to his touch as you ache for more and you think he can't take it either because he's taken his lips off of your skin and then they're in his mouth. He sucks on them slowly, drags two fingers in and out and it's making your dick impossibly hard. You lick your own lips in anticipation and he nods, an indication that he was going to put them right where you wanted his dick to be.

You jerk a little as he rubs two fingers around your hole. He circles in a painfully slow movement and you can't help but try and clench around it, wanting to pull him in. You look down at him and you would have laughed at the look of concentration on his face if you weren't so damn turned on. He looks up at you, as if sensing your eyes on him and your breath hitches at the sight. He pushes in then and you let out groan and he moans along with you. You see him reach for his own cock then, but you let your head fall back as Brendan pushes his fingers in to you further.

You want to see him pumping his own cock but you don't want him to take his fingers out either. "Wait", you whisper and he stops immediately, carefully withdrawing his fingers. You sit up but you keep your knees apart, giving a perfect view of your hole. You sit back against the headboard and you coat your own fingers with spit as he watches on, keeping one hand slowly moving along his own cock. Once you've got plenty of your saliva on your fingers you move them down towards your hole and circling them as Brendan had done earlier. It doesn't take long before you can't take it any longer so you push in and he moans before you do. You keep your eyes on his hand, increasing the speed as he pumps it, swiping the pre-come ridden head as he goes. You move your fingers to the same rhythm as him, angling them so you can hit the place Brendan does, time after time. You grip your cock in the other hand and you give it a pump while you move your fingers in and out in more haste. The sight of Brendan pumping, panting, moaning, leaking – it's sending you over the edge. You thrust your fingers in deeper, hitting your prostate harder. You cry his name, again and again. He lets out a strangled cry, deep and so dirty that it's enough to have you spilling over your fist. You're coming and coming and suddenly he's got your dick gripped in his own hands. You let go and fist the sheets beneath you, letting your head drop back as your visions blurs. He shuffles closer, grabs his own dick with the same hand and milks them both, once, twice and a third time until you're both empty and his hands are absolutely soaked with your intermingled white hot sticky mess.

You let yourself drop back on the bed and you feel his weight on you as you both struggle to regain your breath. You stay like that for a few minutes, his head on your chest and your hands running through his hair. You're in heaven.

You hear someone stirring outside the bubble of your room and you're reluctantly pulled in to reality. Brendan must have sensed a changed because he pulls his head off and puts it on the pillow next to yours. He sighs and looks towards you and you turn, meeting his eyes as you let your arms snake around his waist. "You okay?" he says, and you think for the first time in years, you are. You simile, pulling him closer with your arm and he moves in with it.

"I just wish we didn't have to move. I don't want anything to change. I want this forever." He lifts an arm to your face, lets his thumb smooth over your cheek.

"Yeah, me too."

"Brendan?"

"What?" he looks at you as if expecting something bad but you can't say anything that might hurt him. Not now when he's in your bed. Not now when you're so completely an utterly one.

"That was amazin'" he chuckles then, lets out a breathy laugh and you think it's one of relief.

"Yeah. Yeah, it was." He raises his eyebrows, obviously in a flirtatious mood. "and you Steven Hay, you're fucking filthy."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He reaches over to the clock then and frowns. "What's wrong?"

"I've got a few things to sort out with Jim."

"Er... when?"

"10 minutes ago"

"Oh. When will you come back…? You will come back, right?"  
"I was promised breakfast. You really think I wouldn't come back for your food?"

"And here was me thinking it was me you'd be coming back for!"

"It's always you I come back for." He places a light kiss on your lips before peeling away. "Always."

His statement lingers, just like the taste on your lips. You can't wait for breakfast.

-x-

**AN: I needed the next chapter to be in Brendan's POV but I wanted to keep the pattern I've been on so I'm sorry for keeping you in suspense for so long! I'm hoping it'll be worth it. I also want to let you know that this story will not be over with the confession. I have a lot planned for the Hays and Brendan. **


	6. Brendan II

**AN: You're all probably going to hate me for this! Better things to come, I promise. Thanks again for the reviews/follows/favourites. They make my day. x**

**Brendan II**

His eyes are set to the ground and you can see the pink in his cheek, his golden skin covered in a blanket of rage. He doesn't respond to you. It's as though he's been shut off from the world. "Steven?" you enquire, hoping to break his trance.

It takes a moment before he lift his head again, but he doesn't meet your eyes. Instead his lock on to Lucas' and he croaks out a response. "Will you leave us?" He's not angry at Lucas, you can tell that much. You know it's himself that he's angry at. "You too, Leah."

They both walk away from the table, Leah shooting out the front door with Lucas making his way upstairs, before Steven swiftly stands up and moves in to the living room. He paces up and down, stumbling a little when his knee catches the coffee table and you follow him with your eyes.

The tension is too much for you after a few minutes, so you tentatively move out of your chair and approach him. He's got his back to you as he steps in front of the living room window, staring out as he senses you behind him. You peck at his neck, trying to relax him but he tenses for a moment before lolling his head to the side, giving in to your touch. "Brendan," he sighs. You place your hands at his hips, delicately moving them in a circular motion to relax him further. You want him to know that he can trust you with whatever he's about to tell you. "Oh God, I can't do it."

"Yes," you whisper in to his ears. "Yes, you can." You kiss the back of his ear and then move towards his jaw and you hear him sigh as visibly relaxes.

"Okay," he blows out a breath. "But you seriously have to stop with that," he forces out a chuckle. You reluctantly back away, holding your hands up in surrender and he smiles at your display as he turns to face you for the first time since his outburst. "Sit down, please."

"Steven, you're scaring me"

"Please," his eyes are watery and sad and you want nothing but to kiss away his pain. You reluctantly sit down on the sofa and watch as he prepares to speak. When words come out of his mouth, it's soft and quiet and his eyes are glued to the ground as he continues his earlier actions of pacing up and down the room. "After you left, I got in to a lot of trouble. Like, involved with some really bad shit." You wince slightly despite your effort to show no emotion. To not let yourself judge the situation before he's said all he's wanted to say. You know it's your fault, though. If you hadn't left him, none of this would have happened and you would have kept your promise of protecting him until you were in your grave. You blame no one but yourself.

"What did you do?" your response is firm but lacks scold because you can't be angry at him. You've created this problem. The only person you should be angry with is yourself.

"I didn't want to work at the deli anymore. I wanted a buzz. I wanted to be excited again. I wanted to replace what I felt with you. So…" He gazes up at you and he sits down on the other sofa, looking you dead in the eye. "I starting dealing." His lips tremble a little and he tilts his head to the side as he waits for your response.

"Go on," is all you say. You know this is far from the whole story.

"I got tired of it after a while. I didn't want to put my kids in danger," he wipes at his forehead before placing both his hands behind his neck. "He hurt me."

"Who?" You question, your hands pulled in to fist, your cheeks reddened with anger.

"Trevor." Trevor? You try to place the name but you can't quite make a connection. "He used to give me the drugs to deal but I was stupid and tried to get one over on him and of course he found out." His accent becomes more pronounced as his anger grows. "I started working for him, on and off but when I realised that I was just putting myself and my kids in danger I decided to get away for good. I needed money so I stole it from him. Stupid, aren't I?"

"No, it's not. You wanted protect those you loved. That's not stupid. It's brave."

"No, it was fucking stupid!" He sighs, looks up towards the ceiling and leans back on the sofa. "Trevor found out, obviously. His henchmen tracked me down while we were trying to get away. Amy and the kids were there in the car. I was wasted, Brendan. I was so fucking pissed but I still got in that car with my kids and their mother in there with me. They were following us and Amy just kept screaming at me and Lucas wouldn't stop crying and my head just felt like it was going to burst." He begins to sob and you want to get up and hold him but you're not sure he'll welcome it. He's already told you to back off once today. "I couldn't take it anymore so I tried to end it." You can barely make out what he's saying because his sobbing is getting uncontrollable now. "They was just chasing us and I just panicked, Bren. I'd never thought about it ever before, I'd never ever felt like that but in that moment I was so fucked up in the head that I thought it was the only way to escape. I tried to end it. I tried to kill my own children… I'm a monster." The last sentence comes out as barely a whisper.

You don't have time to register any of it before Lucas comes storming in, rage fully evident in his eyes. "YOU DID THIS TO ME?" Clearly Steven had not told him the full extent of the story. "You're the reason why I can't sleep at night? You're the reason why I can't go a single day without getting this pain in my head? Without reliving every single moment of the crash? Without seeing flashes of mum in so much pain?" Tears are swimming down his face and you know what he's feeling. Losing faith in someone you love. Your nana. You had adored her before you knew.

You look back at Steven and you see panic in his eyes. "Lucas, please listen to me," he begs. "Please, you don't understand. I was trying to protect you. I would never have done anything to hurt you, I still wouldn't but in that moment some thick, psychotic part of me thought that I was doing the right thing. Because then, he wouldn't get to you. You don't know what he was capable of. He would have hurt you, killed you without a second's thought and for some reason I thought that it'd be better to go that way than to have him make me watch while he kill you all, because that's what he would have done."

Lucas runs back upstairs and Steven gets up to follow but you grab him by the arm. "I need to talk to my son," he says but you know that it's not the best idea right now.

"Let me," you say and you let go of your grip on him and walk up the stairs towards Lucas' room.

-x-

You get to door of his bedroom before he can slam it shut, so you let it bounce off of your palms. "Hey, you need to calm down!" You shout, because you don't think anything else will get a reaction out of him.

"This is YOUR fault," he looks you dead in the eye and he flings his words at you. "If you hadn't left, none of this would have happened!"

"Hey, I had no choice!" You bite back. You need him to understand that this was never what he wanted. "I had to leave. I had no idea that this would happen."

You can't have this ruin his relationship with his father. You'd give an arm and a leg to prevent that from happening, so you attempt to understand what was going through Steven's head. You calmly sit on his bed and Lucas follows. "Look, whatever he did… he thought he was doing what was best at the time." You sigh, you can't imagine what state he'd have been in to even contemplate such an act. The Steven you knew would never hurt his kids. This is what you had driven him too. "He loves you, you know that? He loves you now. He loved you then. Sometimes things happen and they mess with your head. It makes you think things that you'd never think if you were thinking just a little clearly."

You don't think your words are having the desired effect so you take a different approach. "You know, I have lived through a lot of shit in my lifetime and I can tell you now that I've thought about ending the… pain. Yeah, the pain. I've thought about ending it so many times. But Steven? That was probably the one and only time that he's ever thought it. One reckless little moment that he's regretted ever since he thought it."

"He's ruined my life," he says through tears.

"No. No he hasn't," you say, lifting his head with your hand on his chin so that he's looking at you. "What you have is fixable. If I can get through what I have, then you can get through yours. And trust me, I would have swapped positions with you without a second's thought when I was your age." You let go, see him wipe his tears on his sleeve, mannerisms almost identical to his father that it makes you smile. "Your dad isn't a bad man, Lucas. Sure, he's no angel but he'd sell his soul to protect you. Some kids would do anything for that. Don't… don't be angry at him for this. He was in a bad place. He wasn't the person you know to be your dad. I know what it's like to be so detached that you can't tell the difference between what's right from wrong anymore. But, he's not like that anymore, is he? He's your da. He loves you. Takes care of you. That's more than I ever got. Cling on to it. Don't make one moment of madness ruin your relationship. Steven Hay is a good man. A better one than I deserve."

You didn't mean to make it about yourself, but it's true. You've done worse than him. How can he ever think that you would love him any less? It's a shock, of course. But it makes you angry at yourself more than anything. You led him to it. You're the reason for all of this. You leaving him. You messed with his head, and not for the first time.

-x-

You take a breath before you enter the kitchen. He turns to meet your gaze and you stand there staring each other in silence for a few moments, not knowing what to say. His eyes are swollen and rimmed with red.

"Amy," you say. "What happened to her?"

He looks down, again, struggles to look at you when he speaks. "She's in a wheelchair. Paralysed from the neck down. She's in Manchester, with her dad. He looks after her." He hesitates before he looks back up to you. "She knows, you know. About everything."

"And?"

"And she's forgiven me. I don't know how, I don't know why but she has."

"Good."

"He hates me, doesn't he?"

"I don't know."

"Oh God. I hate myself so much," he eyes begin to tear up again and before you know it, you're embracing him, telling him that everything will be okay even though you're not sure it is. "I don't know what to say," he muffles in to your shoulder.

"Just, shh," you pull back and cup his face in your hand. "Steven, he's had a shock. Let him calm down and you can talk about it then."

"And what about you? Do you hate me?"

"Steven, I could never hate you. That's never gonna happen."

He reaches for your hand on his face and threads his fingers around your own. His eyebrows crease. "Please don't leave me."

"I won't," you whisper.


End file.
